Post navigation

Sermon for 6.19.16

Today is Father’s Day, when we give thanks for the gift of fatherhood in all its forms. I’ve been blessed with two terrific fathers in my life: my own father and my husband, father of my children, and it’s one of the great joys of life to have watched these two wonderful men in action, and benefited from their love.

On Father’s Day we can remember that Jesus prayed to God as “Father.” Not because God is male in any way – Bible says God created human beings in God’s image, both male and female – God transcends gender categories. But because God as Father is a symbol, a way of describing God’s love for this world. And the family relationship we all establish with God at our baptism makes us all beloved, all one in the family of Jesus Christ. The symbolic Fatherhood of God gives us an example of the loving care we are called as Christians to offer in this world to make this world a stronger, better place.

But the world is not always a loving, caring, good place to be, is it? Our gospel today gives us one example of how we humans treat each other. Jesus and his disciples sail across the Sea of Galilee to the country of the Gerasenes, that is, non-Jewish people, Gentiles, outsiders. They get out of the boat in a foreign country on the other side of the sea. And they’re met by this wild man with no clothes, possessed by an unclean spirit or a “demon” – which is a category we modern people often don’t understand. The idea of demon possession indicates that the person’s behavior is not his natural way of being. Some outside force has caused him to be not himself, in a way that surrounds the person with evil, makes his life unbearable.

Whatever possessed the man, we would probably diagnose it as some sort of mental illness today; they diagnosed it as a spiritual illness back then – either way, it’s something that’s not his fault and he can’t control it. We can’t really say what exactly it was, but what we see in the gospel is that the people of his town absolutely don’t know what to do with him. We can imagine that they’ve focused a lot of time and attention on him because his behavior has been so troubling – we can imagine that his status at any given time has been talk of the town, that huge energy has gone into controlling him. They’ve tried chaining him up (an unhealthy and unloving response to a terrible situation), he breaks all the chains – he’s gone to live among the tombs, wearing no clothes. If he’s not actually dead, he’s dead to them. They’ve written him off as the ultimate outsider.

And from the point of view of these good Jewish disciples just arriving on a boat from across the sea, he’s unclean in every possible way –if they associate with him, they will be unclean too. He is unclean because he is a Gentile, he is unclean because he is possessed by an unclean spirit, he is unclean because he is living among the dead, he is unclean because he is living near a herd of pigs. He has been driven out of town by his own people, excluded and uncared for. He is an outsider among outsiders, a horrifying person for the disciples to meet.

The evil that surrounds him is not only his demon possession, but also the reaction of his family and friends to chain him, exclude him, drive him out. They have truly demonized him, and in a lot of ways you can’t blame them. They’re at their wits’ end, they have no idea what to do with this man.

But Jesus changes all that – he drives out the unclean spirit, whatever that is, he brings healing to the man, restores him to his right mind and his proper place. And the people of the town are terrified and ask Jesus to leave – not because of the loss of a valuable herd of pigs – but because Jesus has come in and upset their whole society. He has set a man free from his chains, he has made it necessary for the town to welcome back the outsider as one of them. They have to think up a whole new way to live with him now. Jesus has brought healing, but he has also brought crisis. Jesus has required not just this man, but the whole town, to reconcile and begin a new way of life.

Which is what Jesus always brings: healing, restoration, reconciliation, a new way of life, as we see in our New Testament reading today: Paul’s great declaration of freedom in Christ: “As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” There will be no demonizing, no outsiders, no subservience in the church of Jesus Christ.

Paul is dealing with a situation in the church in Galatia where people are pointing fingers and putting labels on each other – some people are arguing that only Jews can become Christians, others are saying that all are welcome. The argument comes down to whether the gospel depends on human categories, or whether Jesus calls us to break down barriers and welcome the outsider. Paul comes down forcefully on the side that says that all are welcome, there are no requirements except that a person be loved by God – which is all of us. He says Christ did not come to accentuate divisions that already exist between people, but to break them down.

He uses the picture of what happened at ancient Christian baptisms, when a person would come out of the water and be clothed in new white clothes: “As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourself with Christ.” You are a new person, he says, you have come into a new birth, the old labels and allegiances no longer apply. Jew or Greek, he says – racial divisions don’t matter; slave or free – who wants to hold you in captivity doesn’t matter; male and female – the gender roles that society might want to construct around you don’t matter. We could add, gay or straight, black or white, Republican or Democrat. These things do not define us – what defines us is our relationship to Christ.

And that relationship is based on belovedness: we are loved. That love of Christ sets us free from all labels, free from all human divisions, free to come together with people we disagree with and work to make this world a better place, free to accept a new identity in Christ. In Christ, we are set free from the divisions of this world. In Christ, we come together as one.

Which is so very important for us to hear in this time of division and fear, isn’t it? It’s been a difficult week, here in America – if you’re like me, your heart has been broken by the news of another massacre, this time in a gay bar in Orlando. It’s not the first time a minority group has been targeted. It comes almost exactly a year after a massacre in which 9 African-Americans were killed inside their own church in Charleston, SC. We Christians grieve along with God’s children who were victims in these terrible events, and we open our hearts to the suffering of their loved ones.

But, like almost every time this happens, the country is convulsed with conflict once more about what to do to prevent such attacks in the future. This one had every kind of controversial element you could think of, it was a perfect storm of controversy: a Muslim claiming allegiance to ISIS, the victimization of gay people who are often targets in our society, the fact that most of the victims were also Latinos, a perpetrator who had abused his wife and was never prosecuted, the use of a type of semi-automatic weapon that has been controversial for years, the ongoing conflict between political parties that can’t seem to agree on anything, can’t even sit down and talk about solutions.

It’s the kind of event that can cause us to retreat into our separate political camps and all start arguing over where the blame really lies, while not taking action to prevent such crimes because we can’t agree on what to do. In the words of the Bible, we say, How long, O Lord? How long will events like this keep happening? How long will people keep hurting and dying because of the radical fringe actions of a few? How long until peace comes?

And yet at heart, there is so much we can agree on. All of us are frightened by the idea that some criminal or terrorist, possessed by a mental or spiritual illness, could take our lives, or the lives of people we love, at any time. All of us know the vulnerable, like people enjoying a night out in Orlando, or schoolchildren in Newtown, or people just going about lives in other places from Charleston to San Bernardino to Virginia Tech, should be protected so they can lead safe, happy lives.

We don’t know the solution right now, but we need to discover it together – pointing fingers at each other isn’t helping.

And what we do know is that 49 people should be waking up this morning and going about their lives, instead of dead for a week with their families collapsed in grief and planning their funerals.

What we do know is that nine people in Charleston, South Carolina, should be in church this morning.

What we do know is that 20 children and six teachers in Newtown should be spending this Father’s Day with their fathers, starting their summer vacations, with their parents worried about nothing more than how to keep their energetic spirits busy all summer.

What we do know is that 32 people at Virginia Tech should be graduating from college and thinking about how to start giving back to the world.

What we do know is that this world spends way too much time living among the tombs, surrounded by death.

When the will of God for our world is not death, but resurrection; not grief, but wholeness; not division, but reconciliation and restoration and healing and bringing people together as one.

What we know also is that Christian love and humility asks us not to demonize each other, not to drive each other out and exclude each other as not worth talking to, but to respect each other and learn from each other and act together with love and concern for the weakest and most vulnerable among us.

Because Jesus came to heal divisions, to cast out demons, to overcome evil, to defeat death, to make this world into a better place.

So that this world, instead of a place of evil and death, can grow into a place of life and health, a world that reflects the love of God, our loving Parent. Amen.